


pretty girls

by maygp



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Angst, F/M, Geisha, Sexual Content, Taisho Period
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-24
Updated: 2019-08-24
Packaged: 2020-09-25 06:35:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20372311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maygp/pseuds/maygp
Summary: Yet, some still clung onto their culture in the city in the form of women — geishas, to be exact.





	pretty girls

**Author's Note:**

> Mariko is Marinette. Asahi is Adrien.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own the characters/show. It belongs to its respective owner.

pretty girls

* * *

It was an amazing time as their city was caught between industrial and agriculture, their whole country on the precipice of war, yet, it only furthered the excitement and pride that they will succeed.

Men and women would wear their traditional kimonos and yukatas and stand by others in suits and dresses designed by westerners. It was a snapshot of how the times were changing from old traditions to new.

Yet, some still clung onto their culture in the city in the form of women — geishas, to be exact.

They were once companions who entertained men of the highest caliber, yet, they have been fetishized as an art form stuck in the past.

And in the entertainment district, Mariko, a pretty girl with bright blue eyes was said to be the most sought-after form of art. Generals, chairmen, doctors, and all tossed money towards Grandmother, the owner of the small, yet, prominent okiya, in hopes of becoming her danna.

So, she performed, flattered, and acted for her clients. Some begged and offered her money to visit their private rooms in the tea houses. But ever since a young age, it’s been hammered into her that she is not a prostitute to bed.

Mariko politely declined and ignored how some of her sisters followed them anyways. It was not her business, and never was.

Her sisters, older and younger, admire and envy her all at once. When she is older, Grandmother will leave the okiya to her to continue the never-ending cycle of taking in pretty orphan girls like her and turning them into art. Her home, fortunes, and future is already secured; but her sisters’ are not. Thus, she let them enjoy themselves and swindle men of their riches in exchange for the crevice between their legs without the word whore branded onto them.

Even then, Mariko was grateful to have the extra alone time and waited in the sheltered rickshaw for her sisters to finish their clients. It had been pouring rain none stop, so the streets of the district were empty as everyone stayed dry indoors.

It was rare for her to be left alone without the supervision of her family and men analyzing every movement she makes.

“Hello, Mariko-hime”, a teasing voice appeared from her side, and she turned to meet the all familiar general taking cover under the umbrella. Parts of his uniform was getting drenched, but he paid it no mind as he grinned the mischievous smile of his. His green eyes alighted with eagerness.

“What are you doing, Asahi-san?” she questioned, breaking her impassive facade. Her hands waved him over under the tented roof of the rickshaw. “Get in!”

He wasted no time taking a seat next to the girl under their small shelter, and he propped his umbrella out onto the pulley, hiding them from curious eyes if there were any.

“Lovely night?” he questioned shaking the water droplets from his golden hair. Some of it splattered onto her kimono and her cheek, but Mariko doesn’t mind, liking how it cools her heated skin.

“Yes, Asahi-san, I had a wonderful time with the baron and his friends tonight”, she answered before looking out into the rain again. The cold chill from the weather somehow turned warmer the second he sat next to her.

He hummed, before smiling down at her coyly. “Really? You seemed to have looked bored out of your mind. Not that those drunken bastards would notice.”

The yellow-haired man was right, of course. He knew her well despite their limited interactions. Yet, talking to him was a breath of fresh air — she no longer had to put her best self on show for all to see. Asahi knew that she is the literal personification of art, but he was one of the only few to remember that she was merely a lost girl, and he accepted that part of her, too.

“Just a bit”, she smiled coyly, blue eyes looking down at her folded hands. Taught to be prim and proper since a young age, there were only a few habits she can never drop around him despite his easing aura.

His hands reached out to her own, and he gently brought the inside of her wrist to his lips, never once breaking the gaze he had on her.

“Perhaps, the lady deserves something fun, then?” He took the effort to dart his tongue out onto her warm flesh. The sensation made her squeeze her thighs together to relieve the aching between her legs.

But there was some form of rational reservations that nag at the girl.

“We’re outside, Asahi, and the girls will — “

“Never risk the chance of getting wet in this rain”, The general cut her off. “No one sane is even daring to step out tonight if they can help it.”

To further prove his point, his lips suckled lightly at her skin, eliciting a soft moan. Mariko closed her eyes in pleasure at the feel of his lips on her. Baring her skin was a privilege, and to just outright expose her arm to him, made her tremble at the excitement.

“Then we are not sane, then?” she breathed as she pushed forward, nearing her nose with his, mingling her air with his.

“Far from it”, he grinned through his half-lidded eyes. Asahi took the chance to press their lips together, tongues eagerly coming into contact as they instinctively move and touch and feel.

His hands pulled down her kimono just enough to expose her bare chest for the world to see and for him to feast on. His mouth immediately latched onto a nipple, suckling for anything she was willing to give him, be it her essence or her whispery cries.

She could only throw her head back and close her eyes in bliss, allowing her other senses to take over.

The rain was too loud. The smell of him was musky. And the slickness between her legs was too wet.

“You’re just as sweet as I remember”, Asahi grinned, taking the time to unbuckle his belt and shove his pants and undergarments down. Her eyes lingered on his stiff member as it bobs up and down.

“You’re just as big”, she smiles shyly, blushing a bit at her own lewdness.

Yet, Asahi’s grin only grows more, his hands roaming the softness of her exposed legs. His calloused fingers take the delicate kimono and pull, loosening its hold on the girl.

“Just as beautiful”, he whispered, tracing his fingertips up to her dripping heat.

She moaned at his touch, rough, yet, teasing. With two fingers, she felt him inside her, stretching her out, preparing her for him once again.

Unconsciously, Mariko arched up, letting the obstructed street lamps shine on her expanse of pale skin. Asahi gasped at the sight, taking the hand that was not thrusting in her to pump his own member.

“We have to make it quick, my sweet”, he says, as he pressed deeper into her core. She writhed uncomfortably on the seats, thrusting in time with his movements, but it was no use. She needed more.

“I can’t take it”, Mariko cries, feeling the tears sting in her eyes. Her chest heaved at her insatiable pleasure, but she mustered the strength to grip his coat jacket and pull him down. “Please, give me all of you, Asahi.”

The blond all but grinned hungrily down at her and aligned their hips together. Without wasting a second, he plunged himself into her, making her cry out at the familiar intrusion. He doesn’t give her time to adjust, already pulling and pushing his hips into her over and over.

Mariko loved it. Loved the wild look in his eyes and the way he so greedily fucks her.

He was not delicate with her when it comes down to this sinful act, and she does not want him to be.

Loving Asahi was the only thing she ever allows herself to be selfish with.

She played the part of the perfect geisha and the perfect daughter all down to the tee. Her life had been planned and controlled by the unspoken rules in the district.

But to do something so dirty and forbidden made her heart race and her blood pulse at the excitement.

“You’re okay, Mariko”, Asahi said between breaths, holding her tighter to his chest. She furiously nodded in agreement as he continued to move deep, deep into her. It made her whine at how he was spoiling her too much.

He shields her from the world as her senses are only attracted to him. That animal-like grin on his face to the tightening grip he had on her waist.

“You’re okay”, he whispers again.

It was words she took great comfort in as a remnant from their first time together.

Asahi sponsored her mizuage, and she was led to a dark room in a pretty white kimono to find him waiting for her.

He was sweet even then, too, taking his time to relax her with her first kiss. He reassured her that she was okay as he entered her and wiped the discomforted tears away.

Mariko was close, so close. Asahi picked up on it, moving his hips wildly against hers.

“There’s no one like you, Mariko. No one.”

It was a little confession that made her feel special, and dare she say it — loved. Because he was able to get pass all the makeup and allure.

She thought she cried her love out for him once the calloused pads of his fingers rubbed that special bundle of nerves. But Mariko second guessed herself when he said nothing, but groan in ecstasy. Swirling and mixing his essence with hers.

He readjusted his slacks as she fastened her kimono in place.

It was quiet, as the rain pounded against the tented rickshaw. She could feel his stare on her as she fixed the last of her belts. Her hands moved up to readjust the wilted flowers in her hair.

“I’m engaged”, he said, smiling just as he always had. Mariko paused for a second before slowly bringing her palms down.

She blinked at him once, twice. But he still smiled at her as if baring a secret. His eyes looked darker, but she could excuse the reason as a trick of the light and not the depressive news he had delivered.

He continued on in that same carefree attitude.

“War seems inevitable in the west, and my father is pressuring me to bare sons before I leave for battle”, he said with a shrug. He looked away for a second, and Mariko could not see that brief flash of melancholy in his eyes. A fist grabbed at her chest to feel it beating because there was nothing worse than having something you love taken away because of your own faults.

This was her punishment. For betraying Grandmother after she took her in and turned her into something more than a pretty orphan. For falling for someone like him.

They were left in silence once more before she finally speaks again.

“That is most wise to do so”, she spoke carefully despite the wavering in her voice.

“Is it now.” He raised an amused brow, as his smile turned bitter.

Mariko breathed in deeply before adopting her best self once more.

“Of course, Asahi”, she smiled that pretty lipped smile that all of his associates loved. “It will be a shame if you don’t pass on that wolffish charm of yours.”

Asahi gave a rueful smile at that and agreed.

“A real shame.”

With that, he took his umbrella and left the rickshaw with her still smiling that pretty smile.

She bowed her head and looked up at him.

“Thank you, Asahi.”

He stared at her contemplatively, and he leaned down to give the most innocent pecks to her lips.

“Anytime, Mariko”. The blond turned around with wave and her eyes followed the shape of his back under that umbrella, even when she could not see him through the rain and her tears.

* * *

これで終わりだ。

**Author's Note:**

> (I based this off of Memoirs of a Geisha, so my knowledge on Japanese culture may not be exact.) Crossposted on ff under the same name.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
